


Write It Out

by MistressKat



Category: Firefly
Genre: Diary/Journal, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 16:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: There’s a saying Jayne’s heard folk use plenty: ‘a man of his word’. But he hadn’t actually met one, not before Mal Reynolds.





	Write It Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written during a boozy Scribblers’ Fangirl Weekend to a randomly assigned fandom and prompt ‘notebook’. My third fic for our 100 Fandoms Challenge. Betaed by HanHathma.

Jayne ain’t much for words. They’re mostly empty and pointless, and he hasn’t met many people who won’t eat theirs eventually and he includes himself in that.   
  
The Serenity crew seems an exception, so far at least, although technically the gorram Doc lied about just how dangerous a cargo they were hauling for him. And most of the words from River’s mouth don’t mean anything that Jayne can understand.  
  
There’s a saying he’s heard folk use plenty: ‘a man of his word’. But he hadn’t actually met one, not before Mal Reynolds.   
  
Mal says ‘you stick with the crew, you’ll have a place, food and share of the profits’ and so far it’s all materialised. Mal says ‘you do that again and I’ll space you, dong ma?’ and Jayne understands. Believes him too.   
  
And something about that… the certainty of consequences, makes him feel kind of… safe. And ain’t that fucked up? Feeling safe about the very real threat of being thrown out of an air lock? Jayne must’ve gone fong luh somewhere along the way.   
  
He actually thinks about going to the Doc about it – don’t they have some kind of sacred oath not to reveal patient’s secrets after all? Then again, the man ain’t a regular doc, and Serenity don’t exactly run a regular clinic, so Jayne can’t risk it. And what if it is something serious? What if the Doc tells Mal and then Mal drops him off at the nearest bughouse and Jayne will never see him or anyone on Serenity again?  
  
That thought ain’t a good one and it takes two hours of rigorous disassembly, cleaning and reassembly of Vera to dislodge it.   
  
The good thing of that is that another idea takes its place. One that involves words. On paper, all written down like, which is somehow even worse.   
  
Still, Jayne goes with it, and next time they’re planet side, he buys himself a notebook. A cheap one with paper covers that will turn tatty and soft to the touch within weeks. He gets some pencils too, easier to come by than ink pens, and scratching out words that don’t seem quite so permanent.  
  
The shopkeeper gives him a raised eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, taking his credits silently. Good thing too because otherwise Jayne would’ve had to do something about it and he’s already jittery enough, somehow nervous about buying a gorram notebook like a teen girl selecting the prettiest diary.  
  
He reckons folk take one look at him and assume he don’t know how to read or write, which is just plain stupid of them. Sure you can get work without either of those skills, especially if you were good with your fists, but you were also asking to be taken advantage of if you couldn’t check whether the figures on your pay check was what was promised, or exactly what the cargo manifest you signed said.   
  
Jayne can read and write just fine, if a bit slowly.   
  
He squirrels his purchases to his bunk and under his mattress, only taking them out once the day’s work is done and Serenity is back in deep space, the engines humming around him with comforting familiarity.   
  
Jayne stares at the first lined page and chews at the end of the pencil, trying to figure out the best way to do this. Something about words, what they meant or didn’t, who said them and how, had got his head all muddled up. Maybe, if he wrote them down it would be easier to sort through them, to figure out why some of them made him feel things that made no gorram sense.  
  
After a while, he writes the name of each of his crew mates on top of their own page, leaving a few blank ones in between. He leaves Mal’s name to last. Jayne’s got a bad feeling that he’s going to need all the space he can get for this one.  
  



End file.
